by BA Tortuga
“I don’t know!” He didn’t. Shit. “I’ll drive you back to your Jeep.”
“Okay.” Shane stormed back to the bedroom, tore on some clothes. “I fucking hate this shit.”
“Me too.” They both ignored the kid still in the living room. Until the dogs set up an unholy racket.
“Uh… boss? Are they mean?”
“Nope. You three get down, right now.” Shit, Shane could snarl.
The dogs slunk away, the kid hit the door at a run, and Galen left with Shane, locking up, a habit he’d almost forgotten.
Shane was vibrating under his fingers, tight as a bowstring.
He had a million words hanging on his lips, but he didn’t say them.
Shane met his eyes, the look beaten down, bruised. “You sure you don’t want the kid to just drop me off? It’ll save you an hour of being in the car.”
“No, darlin’. Someone has to make sure you get home tonight.”
“I hate this shit, man.” Shane squeezed his hand, and then they were moving, heading out for the car.
Galen just nodded. Okay. Okay, Shane meant it. And if he hated it, then Galen just needed to set out to find a way to ease the pressure. He was good at business. He could do that.
There was no way he was letting his lover do this if it sucked.
No fucking way.
SHANE SLIPPED into the walk-in just to get away from the noise and the lights for a second.
He needed help, of the red pill kind, or he was going to scream.
Or fall down.
Or kill someone.
Kitty had walked and taken three bartenders with her, and things were so far out of control it was like a fucking Hangover movie. It had taken him and Galen and the other guys two hours to clean up messes. Fuckers.
Now he was waiting for one of his guys to help him out.
If Dylan didn’t get there in the next ten minutes, he was going to be fired too. Damn it, Galen shouldn’t have to be behind the bar, chopping lemons.
He caught his breath, headed back out, and got back to work, Dylan showing up with thirty seconds to spare. Good man. Heck, Dylan threw in and worked hard enough that Shane thought about promoting him on the spot.
Galen was finally sitting, and things were normal again, and Shane stopped, so fucking tired he couldn’t cope.
“Hey, Dylan. You got this ’til closing?” That was Galen. Watching him closely.
“Sure. No sweat.” Dylan looked at him, eyes narrowing. “Hey, boss. You want… to come to the break room?” His voice lowered. “I got stuff. You look pooped.”
“Yeah.” God, yes. He was so tired his toes hurt.
“No.” Len popped up like a jack-in-the-box. “No reds.”
“I….” He looked over, bit back a snarl. He needed some help. “Thanks, man. I’m cool.”
“Well, if you need me to make a run later, holler.” Dylan was a good guy.
Galen was about to be on his shit list.
He looked at Galen. “Can you come up to the office a second, man?” He was two breaths away from a meltdown.
“Sure, darlin’.” Len followed him, right on his heels.
They headed in, and he closed the door, locked it. “I need help.” He wasn’t 100 percent sure that was what he had intended to say, but it’s what he said. And he meant it.
“I know. What do you need me to do, darlin’?” Len didn’t touch him but did reach out, leaving it up to him whether they had this conversation close or apart.
“I don’t know. I hurt, Len. Everything hurts.” He needed that pill, just one, just tonight. Or maybe he just needed a nap and a hug.
Hell, he didn’t know.
Shane pushed into Galen’s arms and held on tight.
“I got you, Shane. I do.”
“Okay.” Good. He needed Galen to have him, because he sure as shit didn’t. He felt like he was going to fly apart, and he obviously wasn’t going to get his reds.
“Oh, darlin’, I should have paid better attention.”
He didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry. I just… I’m tired.”
“Of course you are.” They rocked a little, side to side, Galen swaying.
Were they dancing? He liked dancing, but it had been so long. Every time he pulled back a little, Galen rumbled softly, hand stroking his back. This wasn’t exactly talking, like he’d had in mind, but it felt amazing.
“I feel like I’m going to come apart at the seams.”
“You’re not. It’s just been a while since you let yourself be tired.”
“I want the pill. I don’t do it often, but… I’m so fucking worn.” He could tell Galen; Galen would help.
“I know, darlin’. We can do this. Without the pill.” Galen kissed his temple.
“You promise?”
“I do. We’re the kings of coping.”
He wasn’t sure that was true, but they sure did poke along and do their thing.
Besides, Kings of Coping would be a kickass band name. If they could bottle it, that would rock.
He kissed Galen’s throat, loving the stubble there, the scent. This was his drug right now. Though he might need a cup of coffee.
GALEN GOT Shane home. Again. That was half the battle.
Then he had to call all the bars and threaten them with death if anyone came, called, or quit.
He’d misjudged how tired his lover was, how close to the edge Shane was. He had to figure something out now. As in right now.
Shane was sitting on the front porch, staring at nothing, hands on the pups. Poor baby was just wore out. Dogs helped. They always did.
Hannah was on Shane’s lap, and Mookie was on his back, getting a belly rub. So cute. He hadn’t been sure Shane would ever get over losing Goob at the ripe old age of ten, but the man had bounced back. Maybe he could get Shane to give him a belly rub too.
Shane’s head was down, and Galen wasn’t sure if the man was awake or asleep. Maybe dozing. Shit, he didn’t know what to do.
He grinned, shook his head. Shane still got him all tied in knots like he was a teenager. He just needed to breathe and find a way to get Shane some rest. Then they would work on everything else. “Darlin’? You want to come on in?”
Shane lifted his head like it was a boulder. “Uh-huh.”
“Come on, you lot,” Galen said, nudging dogs so he could get to Shane.
He didn’t ask again, just picked Shane up and carried him in. It spoke volumes that Shane didn’t bother to protest a bit. Not this time. Oh man, Shane was tense….
A massage might just put the man to sleep.
He put Shane on the bed and started stripping that tight little body down. There were a few bruises on Shane’s hips, shaped like Galen’s hands and a couple like his mouth, and he stopped to admire them.
They looked like heaven, like he’d painted them right on. “God, you’re beautiful.”
Shane stretched for him, muscles rippling, jerking under the tanned skin.
Galen grinned, bending to kiss one nipple, then the other. Then he flipped Shane over, reaching for the oil.
“Len?” Shane didn’t actually sound worried.
“Gonna rub you down, darlin’. You’re like a pile of rocks.” The tension in Shane’s shoulders was visible, muscles actually jumping.
“Things are hard these days.”
“They are.” He oiled up his hands and started working on Shane’s shoulders. “We need to work on that.”
“I don’t know how. I’m not smart enough to work on one more thing, Len.”
“Stop it.” He pulled back just enough to pop Shane’s right asscheek. “No putting yourself down.”
“Hey!” Shane’s leg jerked up, thighs spreading. “Be nice.”
“Nope. Not when you’re talking trash.” That was working, so he popped Shane again.
“Galen! Stop it! I don’t like this.”
“You sure about that?” Shane’s body was telling a whole other story. Oh, he wasn’t going to spank the m
an like a child, but a few more slaps would prime the pump.
“I’m not talking about you.”
“No?” He smacked again, wanting this confession. “Then what?”
“No!” Shane shook his head. “All of it! I was happy before!”
“Then we get back to happy, Shane.” He laid a flurry of blows on Shane’s ass before yanking his lover up for a kiss.
Shane pulled back, shook his head. “I don’t remember how.”
Galen snarled a little. “Neither do I, but you’ve always reeled me back in when I got too far away.”
“Don’t you snarl at me. I’m trying to be somebody good. I’m trying to be a grown-up when I’m a natural-born beach bum!”
“You’re not a bum!” Shane worked hard. Always had. He just wasn’t meant to be a mogul. Neither of them were. “We just need to be us, darlin’. Stop letting people push us.”
Shane nodded, wrapped around him so, so tight. “I’m tired, Galen. So tired it hurts.”
He stroked Shane’s back, needing to soothe. “You need to sleep, darlin’. Really sleep, without the buzz keeping you up half the night. Then you need a week off.” At least.
His fingers started rubbing, giving Shane the massage he needed, digging in enough that he got nearly pained moans. Poor baby. Galen hated that he’d forgotten to be there, that he’d given up a little. Him, not Shane. Shane had just gotten bogged down in a routine.
His lover tended to get stuck like that, and Galen knew it. Why he hadn’t acted on it was a worry for another day. Right now they were in the relaxing stage. Those tense muscles hadn’t even begun to let go. He dug his thumbs in, Shane jerking against him, almost flailing, before the muscles let loose.
“That’s it. That’s better.” He did it again, letting Shane grunt and dance under his hands.
“Galen.” Shane’s legs drew up, relaxed, drew up again.
“Uh-huh. It has to get worse before it gets better, okay?” He dug in deep, putting all of his strength behind it.
By the time he’d spread Shane out on the bed again and was working on the mess that was Shane’s lower back, he was 90 percent sure Shane was sound asleep. He worked on it, though, trying to ease the pain there even more.
The tension eased, Shane melting for him.
Perfect. He could do some more massaging tomorrow. For now, he thought it was cuddle time.
He spread out, covering Shane with his body, keeping his darlin’ still and warm and close. Tomorrow they would start to deal with everything else. This touching was what was important now.
Shane took a deep, deep breath, muttered, “Love you, Galen,” then started snoring.
“Love you too, darlin’.” There was not a damned thing more certain than that.
Now he just had to get certain about everything else.
SHANE SLEPT forever. Every time he woke up, Galen was there to snuggle, and he slipped back under.
Over and over he woke himself up, only for the dreams to grab him again. Len felt like heaven, and at some point it became a three-dog night too.
When he cracked his eyes open again, it was either still dark or he’d slept an entire day.
Christ. He tried to pop up, but the dogs held him down.
“Y’all.” Tails started wagging, beating on him, making him laugh. When Copper started licking his ears, he snorted hard.
“You guys suck!” Oh, was that food he smelled? He was starving.
“I grilled, darlin’.” Len popped into the bedroom, those thin linen pants hanging on to his hip bones.
“I slept.” Look at that. Look at that fine son of a bitch.
“You did. Hell, I did too. Hit the head, and I’ll feed you.”
“Sounds good.” He stretched, did his business, and found a pair of light pants to lounge in. Galen wasn’t in a shirt; they weren’t dressing for dinner. Then he wandered out, dogs blocking him at every step. “Did you call me in today?”
“I did.” Len was putting out plates. “I told them I would kill anyone who came here.”
“Yeah? And it worked?” Huh. Len must have snarled.
“So far. Dylan is filling in again tonight. You might owe him a bonus.”
“I’m considering making him the manager.” God, he’d slept through a whole day.
“Cool. He’s willing to talk.” Len had been busy.
Oh, grilled corn. Yum. He grabbed glasses and forks. They settled in to eat, and Shane had to really push himself to remember the last time they’d done this.
They didn’t talk about the bars, about the staff, about anything more serious than how good the steak was, how much they both liked Momma’s pecan pie. Galen had attempted to make cookies, and the mangled shapes cracked him up. They tasted good, though, and he had lots.
Too many, maybe. But they were good. And Len had made them for him. Not the guys at the bar or the old farts at the bait shop.
“Oh God. Best supper ever.” He was full as a tick.
“Yeah. I needed that.” Len grinned at him, handing him another beer.
“Not going to be able to drive now.” He took the beer, though.
“Oh, the horror.” Grinning, Galen settled in next to him.
“Mmm-hmm.” He leaned in, lazy and warm throughout. It felt so damned good to relax. Just sit. Breathe.
Galen’s hand landed on his shoulder, heavy and solid. He loved Len’s hands. They could do so much, or just do nothing but hold him. He liked that idea.
He finished his beer and let his head rest. He knew he couldn’t just sit too long, but he wanted right now. Just this moment.
Galen slipped an arm around him, leaning. “Not a bad night.”
“Not at all. I’m sure an emergency is coming.”
“Nope.” Len shook his head. “Not tonight.”
“You don’t think so?” Len sounded damn sure.
“I know so. They can handle it.”
He took Galen’s fingers in his, tracing them, wishing his brain would calm down.
“Hey. You need to breathe, darlin’.” Galen squeezed his hand, leaning a little more.
“Am I not?” He looked up into the darkest eyes he’d ever seen. Every little lash showed up, thick enough to almost distract him from those amazing laugh lines.
“You’re thinking so loud I can hear it.”
“Yeah. What’s up with that? It’s not like me.” It didn’t use to be like him.
“You just got caught up. It happens so damned easy. You think, oh, just one more job won’t hurt.” Len sounded so sure. He’d been there, Shane guessed.
He nodded. He’d been trying to make himself respectable, be something besides a beach bum. Maybe that was his issue, just like Galen’s worry about getting puffy and all. Maybe he needed to be proud of what he’d done.
Shane snorted. God, he sounded like Galen.
“What’s funny, darlin’?”
“Me. You’re rubbing off on me.” Except, not literally.
“Am I? That might be bad. You always say I think too much.”
“You do. I just, oh fuck, Galen. You know me. I’m not smart enough to figure this out.”
Galen pinched him. “I love you and I think you’re fine.”
“Well, I’d hope so.” He knew better, though.
“Do I need to beat you again, darlin’?” Len sure looked serious.
“Sometimes I get tired of being the fuckup.” Most of the time. Of course, not fucking up took all his attention, and then he didn’t get any loving.
“You’re not. Any more than I am. We’re just who we are, huh?” Len took his hand, toying with his fingers. “I think our next big enterprise should be us.”
“Yeah?” God, he was lost. Hurting, deep in his chest, like something there was sore.
“Uh-huh. Like a cruise. One of those gay ones out of Orlando.”
Oh. Oh God. He could totally handle that. Sun. Surf. Laziness and fucking. Yeah, the little voice in the back of his head said, but what about the clubs? It’s tou
rist season. You think you’ll have enough put back to keep all the staff employed during the lean season? You think you can trust those yahoos to book bands? Do inventory?
“I think Dylan and maybe Ben can handle everything.”
“Yeah? Maybe.” Maybe by next year. Fuck, his head hurt. “Maybe I could work it out for Christmastime. Although we usually have Momma then, and….” God, he wanted out.
“Nope. I got a plan. I am the man with the plan, remember. I just didn’t know you needed one.”
“A man or a plan?”
“A plan. You always have my man parts at your disposal.” That little chuckle slid right down Shane’s spine.
He had to smile—had to. Galen had decided something, that was for sure, and that was that.
It would be nice if he could figure out what that was, though.
Or not.
Hell, he kinda liked just letting Galen drive a little. Those shoulders were broad enough to hold a lot of problems.
“You’re all caught up in your head, darlin’.”
“I know.” He nodded, sighed. “I know.”
“Come back to me.” Len turned his cheek and kissed him, really letting him have something to think about.
He crawled into Galen’s lap, wanting the comfort the man could give him. Those strong arms wrapped around him, Galen humming for him, tuneless and gravelly.
“Love you, old man.”
“Old!” Galen laughed, goosing him. “I love you too.”
“Ancient.” He winked.
“Uh-huh. So much older than you.”
“Hey, six months is six months.” He settled, his ass finding a good spot on Galen’s legs.
“Oh, it’s an eternity.” Len looked so good, smiling, relaxed.
“Finally, you understand.” He rested, cheek on Galen’s shoulder.
“I do, Shane. I really do.”
He had a feeling Len wasn’t talking age.
GALEN STARED at his phone.
Shane had hung up on him. Well, not on purpose, but the call dropped, and Shane wasn’t calling back.
Damn it. They had supper plans. Dylan was a fine manager. Why the hell was Shane still at work? Things had been… better. But now he was seeing less of Shane every damned day.
It was fucking crazy—Shane was in his head, distant, gone. Hell, he couldn’t even get the man to bed. That had to be the stupid pills, but Galen never found them in the house.
